Last night we's met in an Industrial Park, near da Mississippi River. It wuz uh cold evening an' I really needed uh colt 45. I park behind uh long line o' cars, Where Burning Asshole* wuz waiting wiff an open cooler. Mmmm. Cold colt 45. Love it. The cooler wuz brought over ta da entrance o' da Riverfront Trail an' we's gathered around it, like uh bonfire. Except nahh warmth wuz emitted. Ah well. Dipping back into da cooler, muh ma fuckin gloves got wet. It wuz then we's realized dat dis here wuz da only colt 45 we's had ta drink, left over colt 45 from da back o' uh `64. Aw shit.

Where wuz da malt liquor meisters? Unbeknownst ta me, Nurse Hashshit iz uh malt liquor meister, although why she would announce it at dis here moment iz beyond me. You know you going ta pay fo' dat later, right? Don't make me shank ya!

 

Our hares gave uh shitty chalk jive, wiff pink flour, ta see in da snow an' mud. A new stop wuz displayed by an SSS, wiff Postage making some kind o' Forrest Gump reference. Or maybe he just talks like uh retard. Who knows? Pubic Head, our other bitch, showed up finally wearing uh shirt. They wuz away an' we's drank nuttin'.

 

As peeps came into circle, we's warned dem o' da mistake dat wuz made. My long lost homey Disco Ass showed up, along wiff Mile High Baller. Is he going ta Green Dress? I love him at da Red Dress, wiff his dancing an' carrying on... Anyway. A few peeps wuz chosen ta jet afta some beers, if we's didn't dere would be none fo' circle afta da run. We can't gots dat! So PMS, DMB, BA, an' myself decided ta pick up some 12 packs. Then I Have uh Dick, I Feel Tower an' Pulls Rank came as well. Was anyone running? Ya' dig?

 

Luckily we's rode wiff PMS, who fucks wiff one o' da hares (don't tell Postage!) so she knew where da Beer Stop wuz. We got da malt liquor an' pulled up ta uh bar. I th'o't it wuz uh bar, it wuz da only building in da area wiff lights. Inside, it wuz warm an' dere wuz one beotch bartender an' about 12 peeps. The pack filed in an' we's defiled dem. Some late comers showed up, including Hammertongue an' Keyless Entry an dat boil on mah ass.

 

We drank some beers, finally! Off we's jet ag'in, dis here tyme ta uh smaller building dat smelled delicious. Inside, we's found scrimps an' barbecue. Mmmmmm! Some ordered chickn n` corn bread 'n scrimps, others did not. Postage found uh fellow bus driver in uh matching vest. The hares wuz away, which wuz weird, cuz da ones dat got chickn n` corn bread 'n scrimps had da colt 45. Ha! What 'chew thinking man?

 

Back at circle, we's found angry thirsty peeps. CliffBangHer angrily got da colt 45 out o' da trunk o' da `64 an' set it down fo' peeps ta drink. We rounded up fo' uh long circle. In circle, autohashers wuz made ta drink, even though we's brought colt 45! What da hell? Significant runs wuz mentioned, wiff Stink Palm earning his 10 gang (still on da boat, he got uh 69 instead) an' Dewey earning her 50th! Jus' like Orenthawl James!

 

Guess who got hashshit? Yup. Nurse did cuz she did not bring da colt 45. Silly ho. She drank from da toilet plunger back pack, we's swang low an' drove our Caddy's ta da on-after. The bar owner wuz concerned about where we's wuz parking, which wuz weird, seeing as we's wuz in uh very safe looking hood. Inside, dey had Stag bottles an' pizza. Even though afta da scrimps I don' know who wuz hungry. I tried ta keep da big bartender beotch away from Pubic, but I kept getting distracted. The other bartended had en eye fo' Ricky'sCrab Shack, until we's told her his name. He then tried ta sway her in Latin, but Pubic told her it wuz Spanish fo' "I gots uh 2 inch jimmy." Funny sheeit.

 

There wuz some crappy gang playing very loud, colt 45 drinking, Pees Like uh Princess looked at pictures o' spaghetti wrestling, an' DMB left 'bfoe she could hear da shitty Dave Matthews cover singer. See ya all next tyme! What the fuck sup now?

 

On-Motha' Fuckin'-On,

 

Dewey Sexual System

 

 

 
--
Sara!

"No! I was ashamed to be seen with you; I like being with you.."~Gob Bluth